Deviation
by morethanamuse
Summary: There has never been a reason for Kate to stray away from the ritual that she practices only one day a year... until now.


**_Disclaimer: I don't own Castle. Etc and such. :)_**

**_Disclaimer Part 2: Kate goes a little OOC, but I think I tied it in/ justified it nicely. Don't get all up in arms about it... its fanFICTION. :) Also, it is a little heavy in places, just because of the week I've been having. My mother is very sick with MS, and has returned to the hospital for the umpteenth (sp?) time. I found some comfort in writing, so I poured some of my emotions into this... and that's why Kate went a little rogue... I sometimes identify with her... both of us have a very difficult situation involving our mom. _**

**_Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I know it's a little long for a one shot, but this was written pretty much all at once, in a bout of insomnia, and I don't really plan on continuing... so I hope you are a fan of how I ended it. (I warred with myself on how to end it for a while... and I arrived where I did, and am sticking with it :) )_**

**_***New and improved... spelling problems taken care of- I believe! And thank you all for the kind words and the support. Some of you have asked for more- any ideas of what you would like if I did?***_**

**_Thanks to all my readers. _**

* * *

In the chaotic entropy that was Kate Beckett's daily life, there was one day per year that she could count on things to go exactly as planned. She always took the day off; a long withstanding order from Captain Montgomery, and even though she didn't have to work, this solitary day that Kate had to herself was anything but restful. It usually consisted of four main components; not necessarily in any particular order, but she always could count on breakfast with her dad, followed closely by a trip to the cemetery, a trip to a local bar, and deep, pounding sorrow.

Most days she didn't let herself deal with the fact that her mother was gone, but today, which was the day Kate could always plan on, it was the only thing on her mind. It always went the same way after she bid a tearful 'see you soon' to her father; spending the rest of the night trying to put her mind back in the place it was the rest of the year.

Her father had departed a few hours ago, after kissing his daughter on the cheek and telling her to stay strong. _I always do,_ she had thought. Now, she was sitting on a bar stool at a local dive, nursing her Jack and Diet, which she had told the bartender to make mostly 'Jack.' Poking at the lime that was tentatively bobbing in between the ice cubes with her tiny straw, she tried to pull herself together. Outwardly, she just looked tired and as though she had needed a stiff drink after a long day at the station. On the inside, she was screaming.

* * *

At the 12th, Rick Castle sat at Beckett's desk, unsure of what to do with himself. He knew clearly that he didn't need to be there today, of all days, but something simply wouldn't let him stay away. He wildly wanted to be there for Kate, but he knew that she needed the day to herself and her dad. He in no way wanted to impose on family time, but he couldn't help but worry. His soft spot for the women that he cared for most in his life, his mother, his daughter Alexis, and Kate, throbbed, making him more uncomfortable than he had ever remembered feeling.

He had nearly driven himself insane at home, pacing like a tiger in a cage, and looming over Alexis and his mother, trying to distract himself. When Alexis couldn't take any more of him interrupting while she was trying to write a term paper, she had gently prompted that he go to the station to see if any of Beckett's team had any suggestions of anything he could do. She knew Kate well enough that she felt that no one there would be able to offer much, but they had been through more anniversaries of Beckett's mother's death that he, and maybe they knew a secret that he didn't.

Castle had indeed talked to the people who knew Kate as well, if not better than he did, and to his dismay, his daughter had been right. No one offered anything helpful. Not because they didn't want to, but because there simply wasn't anything anyone could do for her, not today.

The Captain had said, "I always give her the day off, and other than the first time I told her to, she hasn't complained. She just needs to sort herself out today, so she can come back in tomorrow and reclaim her place as the best homicide detective I've ever trained. It happens every year, and she always recovers just fine." He had paused, letting his voice lower in concerned understanding and continued,"But I know somewhat how you're feeling, Rick. I wish there was something I could do too. Today is the only day I ever really worry about her handling her emotions."

After talking to the Cap, he went down to the morgue, finding Lanie at the slab, working a body.

She raised her eyebrows and said, "What are you doing down here?" She immediately noticed his sullen demeanor, and her surprise grew. "Beckett's not here today, you know."

"Yeah, I know, Lanie. I was wondering if you had any advice," he trailed off, the concern in his voice coming through blatantly. He wound his fingers in his hair when he raised his hands to the back of his head in exasperation."I'm going crazy here. I want to help Kate. I can only imagine what a wreck she must be, bottling everything up until today."

Lanie sighed and gave him a knowing look. "Castle, I get that you want to help, but Kate's a big girl. She does this every year, and its therapeutic for her. Just leave her be, and you will have the same Beckett you know and love back at full force tomorrow." She emphasized the word 'love', but Castle didn't seem to notice.

"I know Lanie, I just-"

"I know, Castle," she interrupted. "Believe me. I know. I'm one of her best friends. I wish like hell I could help."

"Yeah..." his voice wavered. "Well, thanks Lanie. Sorry to bother you." Castle turned to leave.

"Don't mention it," the ME replied. "And Castle?" She waited for him to face her. "You don't have to apologize. Not for this." She gave him a sympathetic but warm smile, and turned back to the stiff.

Castle returned upstairs, feeling the odd sensation of aloneness in the elevator. Stepping out, he slumped into the chair that was next to Detective Ryan's desk, causing both him and Esposito to turn and look at him with questioning eyes.

"What do I do, guys?" Castle sighed, the only words he could come up with.

"We've been asking ourselves that for a long time," Ryan replied, not having to ask what Castle was talking about. "Javi and I both love her like a sister. If there was something we could do, we would do it in a heartbeat." Esposito nodded in agreement.

"Bro, my best suggestion is to go home." When Castle began to protest, he didn't let him get a word in and continued, "I know that's not where you want to be, but if Beckett needs you, she will come find you. There is no way she would come here, mostly because Montgomery would be disappointed in her. If you want to be found, which I know you do, be at your place, because we all know she wouldn't ever call first." Ryan bobbed his head, confirming his concurrence.

Castle knew he was right. He got up to leave, turning and throwing a 'Thanks, man,' over his shoulder. It seemed like Esposito always knew what to say when it truly mattered.

Arriving at his loft a short time later, Rick nestled himself within the plush of his couch, turned on a movie that he knew he wouldn't watch, and waited. Unconsciously, he bounced up and down a little, out of impatience and nerves.

He wanted so desperately to be found.

* * *

A few 'Jack and Diet, hold the Diet's' later, Kate gathered herself up and wrapped her jacket across her shoulders. The bar was a good distance from her apartment, but a walk in the cool night air was something that was part of her ritual, and something she needed. Pausing at a stand set up on the sidewalk, Beckett bought a pack of cigarettes. She strode on and opened the pack, discarding all but two into a trash bin. As out of character as it was for the current version of herself, the tingling, almost numbing sensation of the nicotine hitting her gave her a reprieve that was deeper than the alcohol could go. Flicking her lighter, she lit the first cig, and continued her journey to her apartment.

When she arrived at the corner that signaled she was only a few feet from her front door, she hopped lightly onto a wide concrete ledge that ran parallel to the stairs to get into the building next to hers. This was her perch, every year, on this day, around this time, where she smoked her second cigarette, allowing it to make her feel numb all over.

She blew out a long puff of smoke, and watched it as it shifted in the air, mingling with her condensating breath. It took her back to before she was a cop; before she was so straight edge. She had spent many nights like this, her mind and body screaming for a way to rebel, to break out of her emotions and sometimes her very soul. It was nights like those that she would convince her boyfriend at the time to lend her his motorcycle, and would just ride until the tears blurred her view. She would pull over and cry deep, shaking sobs until she felt like she would break in half. She couldn't do anything like that now, of course, but the two cigarettes a year were her substitute for those choking tears that she would no longer let herself produce.

When the numbness faded into nothing, she popped a piece of gum in her mouth and made her way up to her home. The next step of her evening was to take a scalding hot shower. On any other day, she would have probably felt like lounging in her tub, but she knew soaking in her claw-foot would only lead to thinking, and today, that was a dangerous notion.

The thinking part of her day was over, so she simply showered, feeling the literal and symbolic dirt rinse off of her strong body. Dirt was a flaw, an imperfection, and imperfection lead to weakness. There was little room for that kind of fragility in her line of work. Rather, she turned her experience into something she could use, and it was the reason that everyone told her she was so good at her job.

She stepped out of her shower and dried off, applying a liberal amount of her cherry scented body butter. No one except her father knew it, but this was an homage to her mother. The hard-to-find lotion was her mom's favorite, and after she died, Kate made a special note to track it down. She finally had found a vendor who sold it online, and had stocked up, fearing that she would never find it again.

Once she dried her hair in natural loose curls, she dressed in her most comfortable yoga pants and a purple cami, moving as if on auto-pilot to her bookshelf. Without looking, she grabbed the first Derek Storm novel she could find. Derek had helped her through her mother's death not only when it happened, but even still today. She felt comfort in the pages, and settled in to read a few chapters.

Usually, Kate got lost within the pages of Castle's intricate stories, her mind twisting itself into the intricate plot line, and would get so engrossed that she literally read until she fell asleep. Tonight, this was not the case. Kate's eyes unfocused, her mind pulling her into an alternate reality that had little to do with Derek Storm.

She found herself thinking about Rick Castle's soft eyes as he had said those words that she had heard before, and was sure she would hear many times in the future. _I will do anything that you need, including nothing, if that's what you want._

She knew that it was bittersweet for him to say these words because the second part would be incredibly difficult for him to do if that was what she chose. Tonight, that is what she chose, and as hard as it was to tell him, there was absolutely nothing he could do.

Or that was at least what she had thought at the time. Now, she was beginning to feel a little different. Truthfully, it spooked her more that she was actually being pulled from the ritual she had practiced for so many years than the why.

She already knew why. She had known why for a long time, but she had never, ever, in a million years would have guessed that the feeling would be so strong that it would actually divert her thoughts and schedule on this day. She had shown up unannounced before, feeling as though an invisible force had led her to his door when she needed it most, and was too stubborn to tell him on her own. Each time, he had given her the comfort, reassurance, and grounding that she was looking for.

Instead of feeling that unknown force come over her, she decided, of her own volition, to go over to his loft. She wouldn't, couldn't, lie to herself. Not this time. She _needed_ him.

* * *

Across town, Castle hadn't so much as moved an inch off of his couch. He was on his third Disney movie, deciding they were mindless and lighthearted enough to half distract him from his incredibly deeply rooted need to take care of Kate.

When he heard a knock at the door, he all but sprinted across his living room to open it. When he did, he found a very different Kate Beckett than he usually came into contact with. She was still dressed in her yoga pants, and had pulled on a white zip-up hoodie over her cami; the purple peeked through it down half of her torso, where she had left a portion of the jacket unzipped. Her hood was up, loosely framing her face and her chestnut waves of hair. She looked tired and troubled, but her eyes lost their ominous gloom when she appraised his reaction to be surprised but ecstatic.

He couldn't hide the shock that instantly clung to his features because he really had convinced himself that she would not come find him. He was beyond delighted, and moved to the side of the door, softly greeting her with a simple 'hey' and ushering her into his home with his hand just grazing the small of her back.

She mimed his greeting back to him, and watched him intently as he turned and shut the door. Feeling her eyes on him, he turned slowly, wondering in which capacity she needed him. He would be anything for her, a friend, a boyfriend, a lover, an acquaintance, a partner, a brother. Which ever choice made her happy, he would be. Of course he had a preference list, but it was her call; it always had been.  
Observant as ever, Kate noticed that the rush of at least a dozen emotions was apparent in his eyes. Beyond tired of their tango of relationship terror, she took a confident step in his direction, then another. He sensed what was transpiring, and wordlessly opened his arms. As she took the last step that caused the space between them to disappear, he gathered her up, enveloping her in a compassionate and soothing embrace.

They stood there, each planted to their individual spot on the floor, but intertwined from the waist up. They were silently rocking back and forth as one, ever so slightly, admitting everything and nothing simultaneously. He knew she didn't want to talk, so he didn't even ask.

Instead, when they pulled apart, he audaciously kissed her on the cheek, and took her hand and led her to the couch where he had spent most of his evening. The Lion King was still playing on his TV, a passable distraction from anything having to do with the significance of this day. _Luckily the part of the movie we're at is way past Mufasa dying_, he thought, grimly.

She settled herself, unafraid, in his arms, and leaned her cheek to his chest, resting her head on him like she would a pillow. He tightened his arms around her to give a reassuring squeeze, effectively telling her she was safe without using any words at all. They watched until the credits rolled without breaking the silence between them. It was a comfortable silence that they had grown accustomed to during long car rides, in the elevator, and when Kate had a mountain of paperwork. They had never experienced it in this manner before, and even so, it was seamless with what they had felt in the past. The potential for awkwardness vanished from the moment she had arrived.

It was Kate who finally spoke first, a rare occurrence with the normally verbose Castle. He was marginally surprised when she tilted her head to look at him, but listened with interest, as he always did when it came to her.

"Rick I-" she broke, realizing that she didn't have to explain herself as soon as she saw the affectionate gleam in Castle's eyes. She changed her tone, lowering it to fit the mood of what she was about to say. "All of this?" She flicked her eyes between the two of them, "I- I think we're finally on the same page." His eyebrows raised, hoping he heard her right. "I only have one word, Rick. _Slow_."

He nodded, not needing any other form of explanation. Eight words were enough to tell him that she had broken her habit of this day for a reason, and it made her realize, finally, what they both had known all along.

He brought her back to him, lowering his face to her ear and whispered, "I think we even arrived on the same word of the same page the second you knocked on my door."

Smiling, she nodded, and he flipped the TV to what ever infomercial was beginning its tireless tirade. It was only background noise, anyway. After considerably lowering the volume, he replaced his arm around her, and she snuggled deeper within his arms, feeling his warm strength engulf her.  
She exhaled slowly, and raised her head once more. Catching his eyes with hers, she tore them away for a fraction of a second to glance at his lightly parted lips. His eyes darkened a shade at this action, and in a seemingly choreographed movement, dipped his head at the exact moment she raised hers and their lips brushed. She retreated an inch or two, biting her lip, searching for an answer in his blue eyes. Her question was resolved when he pulled her to his lips again, tenderly removing any doubt she had.

His hand wandered to the back of her neck, playing with her hair and tangling his fingers in the gentle waves. This intimate touch caused her to let out a content sigh, signaling him to deepen their kiss. She tried to get closer than she already was, not satisfied with an inch of her body not touching his. She slowed the pace, almost lazily working her lips on his, just so she could feel every subtle movement.

When they finally slowed to a near halt, they didn't move, pressing their lips together every few seconds in tiny, innocent kisses. Finally, she lowered her head and buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing evenly, relaxing. He smelled familiar, comforting. Turning her head so she could breathe, she realized that all the stress from the day that she had been working so hard to get rid of was suddenly gone. She didn't notice it leave, but she suspected it was somewhere between the end of The Lion King and the moment their lips touched.

Tangling herself up in him, she came to figure that she had found everything she had been looking for, and maybe a little more. Releasing a puff of air, she drifted off with Rick, the man who would do anything she needed, including this, because it was what she wanted. She had no trace of doubt that it was what he wanted too. She felt him give her a small squeeze, and that was all she needed to fall asleep, safe in his arms. Her last thought was that she was glad that she had gotten off her normal track today, because he was worth the deviation.

* * *

_**Please let me know what you think- anything from typos to plot holes... I appreciate every comment, and take them into consideration so I can always be improving.**_

_**Thank you! :)**_


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